Chapter 6

Dr. Henry Le Croix stood in front of the 3-D display of a DNA strand and contemplated the data. Outside it was starting to grow dark, but he hardly noticed, so intent on the problem in front of him. If only he could find an answer….

"Dr. Le Croix? Sir? Sir, the timer just went off."

Henry grunted and muttered to himself as he turned to the young intern. Honestly, he could do without the fawning lot, but to keep his government loan, he had to have employees. That being said, this current group was not too bad, overeager to impress, yes, but on the whole not too bad. "What is it?"

"Sir, the timer went off on the sequencer."

Henry stiffly stood and brushed by the intern, unbalancing the young man who flailed to keep himself upright. He stretched before going to the microscope and reviewing the DNA below. Humming excitedly, Henry jotted down notations on the chart. "Very promising. Yes indeed."

Someone coughed behind him and with an irritated snort, he turned. "What?"

His personal assistant Delilah stood, data stylus in hand, ear comm affixed "just so" to her ear. "Mr. Le Croix, there is a call for you on line two."

"Not now, Delilah. Take a message or something. I'm in the middle of trials."

"Sir, it is Mr. Jacques. He says it's urgent."

"Fine, fine," Henry growled. Angered by the interruption, he stomped by his assistant and went to his private office.

"Play call." He watched as the screensaver on the communications display changed to reveal Jacques. "What is it, Jacques? What is so important that you have to disturb me? Can't it wait? I'm busy here!"

"Henry, you always say that, and no, it can't wait. You need to come home for dinner. Laylah needs you."

"My daughter does not "need" me. She has you and Naiya to guide her. Now, if there's nothing else, I'm leaving. I have lives to save." A sudden long beep and empty screen greeted his words. "Must be that time of the month." He returned to his work, whistling as he continued his trials.

~***~

The crash of glass breaking brought Naiya running to the kitchen. She looked at the remains of the china set and sighed. She stared at Jacques' back. "Problem?"

"He may be my friend, employer and my Alpha, but he can be such an ass!" Jacques stared at the broken plates and ran his fingers over his bald head.

"That bad, was it? Speaking of which, what exactly did he say when you called?"

"That Laylah doesn't need him because she has us. The same nonsense he always spews to avoid the question. I'm getting real tired of it, Naiya. In all other matters, Henry charges forward, always with intent and purpose. With Laylah, it's the opposite. He doesn't even see how hard she's trying to please him."

Naiya clucked disapprovingly. "A young lady always needs her father. Henry is doing her a disservice."

He turned to Naiya. "Well, no use trying to worry about it now. Laylah needs space and time to calm down. I hate seeing her sad. It tears at my heart."

"I know. It worries all of us. But go on now. Check security or whatever you always do. I've got a kitchen to clean." She pointedly looked at the smashed dishware and Jacques gave a rueful chuckle.

"Yeah, surveillance needs to be checked." He walked out the back door, thinking about ways to help his young charge cope with the bully

~***~

Laylah sat on her bed, staring at the history text in front of her. She sighed and picked up her e-stylus to check her work. She slowly read over it, looking for errors.

 [ESSAY]

In the twenty-first century, the Earth and its peoples were steadily reaching technological highs that were unheard of centuries and even decades past. Within these many nations lived those who were disturbed by such advances. While they welcomed some changes, they feared others.

Because of this fear, these individuals began to reach out across the Internet and through language barriers to come together. Not all were common men. Many came from the upper echelons of society. They all shared one ideal--a desire to preserve their heritages. There was, however, another reason some answered this call. They were a group that lived in secret, blending in with humans. But the Earth was getting too crowded for them and the desire to run free in their natural environments was strong.

And so the Weres approached their human counterparts and a bargain was struck. They pooled their assets and, with the help of covert government agencies, began building a ship to take them to the uncharted reaches of space in search of a home to call their own. Construction began on the ship, Terra Freedom, in the year 2000 on a protected and unexplored island in the Pacific.

Laylah stopped, her thoughts not on the assignment. She lay down her e-stylus and picked up a picture frame from her bed stand. Idly she traced her fingers over the glass. She remembered the day the photo was taken. It was the last time Father had done anything fun. They'd gone to West Sparks River Beach, played in the waves and built sand castles. He had carried her on his shoulders to the end of the pier and together they had watched the sun set.

Eight years old and, to her, Father had been her whole world. After that day at the beach, he'd changed, growing colder with the passing of time. It was little things at first--missing meals, breaking promises. Then it changed to outright verbal refusals to speak to her and, finally, hiding out in his lab for days and weeks at a time.

Confused, she turned to Jacques and Naiya, who became surrogate parents. And though they filled a spot in Laylah's heart and affections, it was her father she yearned for. His approval, even some kind of acknowledgment of her presence, would have been welcome. She even entered into the genetic degree program at the academy, just like her father. Still, nothing worked and she, at last, admitted defeat.

The shrill ring of her ear comm scattered her morose thoughts. Laylah sighed, grabbed it, and hit the activate button. Before her eyes a 3-D display appeared. "Hello?"

"Hey girl! Thought I'd check on you."

Britta's cheerful voice made her wince and she managed a weak smile for her friend's benefit. "I'm fine, Britta. If you're calling about my essay for Mozar, the answer is no, I haven't started on it yet. If this is about Violet, I don't want to talk about it."

"Not worried about the essay; that should be a breeze for a genius like you. As for Violet, I already told you what to do. Take some self-defense courses, for heaven's sakes!"

"Oh. Uh, if it's not either of those, what are you calling about?" Laylah was now curious.

"I'm throwing a party in two weeks and I want you to come."

Laylah was speechless. Britta always mocked the extravagant parties the popular crowd threw, comparing the hosts of such events to peacocks with something to prove. It seemed all pretty and accessible, but, in reality, was ugly with access granted to an elite few. To hear Britta say she was having a party was mind-blowing and confusing. Was she going to lose her one and only friend to life's other pursuits, just as she'd lost her father?

"Uh, hmm. Laylah? Hello!" Britta's worried tone penetrated her thoughts.

Laylah scrambled to remember her friend's last few sentences. "Britta, I don't know. I'm not good in social settings and besides, Dad won't let me go. You know how he is about me doing anything fun."

Thoughts glum, she stared at the peach-colored bedroom walls and wished she had a different life or different parent or something. Most people would think she was crazy, wanting some intangible thing when she was surrounded by her father's wealth and prestige. Those two things didn't make a person happy. All she had to do was look at herself.

"Stop being such a downer," Britta chided. "I'll make whatever concessions, promises and oaths I have to, but you, my best friend, will be at my party. I'm not taking no for an answer. The invite should arrive tomorrow. I expect you to R.S.V.P. immediately."

She started to protest again about the impossibility of pulling this off, but Britta interrupted her. "Not another word, Laylah. Humor me, okay? Now, I have to make some calls. Catch ya later, Chica!"

The silence of the ended call was loud in Laylah's ears. She turned off the ear comm and put it back on the bed stand. Moody and troubled with thoughts, she stared at her three paragraphs.

"Well, better write that essay." She grabbed the e-pen and after a moment's hesitation, resumed writing.

~***~

Outside the mansion, past the walled-in gardens and over the wooden bridge spanning the tiny brook that ran through the grounds, stood a wolf. Even from a distance, his white shaggy fur and large size were double that of any local wildlife. The wolf walked down the bridge, lifted a leg and peed on the post. He turned his gaze to the eastern wooded area behind the Le Croix mansion.

The wolf's ears perked up at a sound only he could detect and he scented the air for danger. His tongue lolled out and, with one last longing look at the place, he ran to the north toward civilization. The only creature to mark his passing was a tiny frog on a lily pad.